The Safety
by Catori Simone Winston
Summary: When a person calls into Scotland Yard saying they've found a body in an old, abandoned house, of course Sherlock and John would go investigate it. As they get deeper into the case they realize that maybe they have taken on more than they thought they bargained for. Rated T for MINOR swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is a story that I did not sit down and actually plan. I got it from a word prompt of Air Vents... But ya know when inspiration strikes it can be whatever... including, air vents.**

**Action/Mystery/Suspense/Maybe Romance (wouldn't be too big of the plot though.) and maybe Johnlock in the end. IDK though. might just be some epic bromance up in this house!**

**Enjoy! and Stay Creative!**

**Catori**

**(_a-writers-moments _on Tumblr)**

**Disclaimer::**

**I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK HOLMES NOR AM I ASSOCIATED WITH SHERLOCK HOLMES. I AM JUST BORROWING THE CHARACTERS. I DO NOT PROFIT OFF OF THIS.**

**Hopefully, that disclaimer suffices... On wards!**

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"John, something isn't right."

"What do you mean Sherlock? The house is abandoned. It hasn't had anyone living in it for years." John said, attempting to console his partner. John looked around the house again. The old wall paper, the stained robin's egg blue carpet and the ultimate decaying of the house told of its age as both Sherlock and John found themselves in this less than ancient home. Though no one had occupied the space in years, there had been a body found here. Female, most likely early 30's, in shape, brunette, dead for about 5 hours prior to Scotland Yard getting the call and finding her. Blunt force trauma to the head, struggle with the skin and blood in her fingernails and the bruising on her arms and chest. Object to cause that: something heavy, square due to the imprint in the skull, most likely table leg or one of those thick glass frames. That was why the duo found themselves in the rickety old house currently, attempting to see if they could find anything that might be off.

"Something's wrong. Something's wrong. No. No. Nononono…." Sherlock kept muttering. John shook his head and proceeded to the left, heading up the staircase. The house was so old that the air vents were actually in the floor. John chuckled as he remembered in his childhood his family's home had been older and had those air vents; they ended up great for listening in on the grown-ups conversations. John had gotten to the top of the steps when he heard Sherlock's voice rise from the foyer.

"John?" His voice guarded but tinged with worry. Something about it made John start going down the stairs towards Sherlock.

"Sherlock, what is it?"

"The table. The table in the living room is gone John." John came rushing down to the landing and watched as Sherlock pulled out one of the photos and held it up to where the living room would be. There was indeed a coffee table missing. The legs square and heavy, most likely the object that had killed the girl. Both their thoughts now confirmed that this must be the murder weapon since it had taken to disappearing. No one wanted it to be found.

"Where though? Where?" Sherlock went about muttering and John headed outside in the back. In the mud were fresh foot prints that led to a shed in the back. John looked back at Sherlock and shrugged, hearing Sherlock mutter something about burning it. John held his gun up as he pushed open the shed of the door. His eyes widened in shock as he saw what was loaded in the shed. In front was enough dynamite to blow the shed and possibly the house sky high, if he had estimated the amount correctly, with a timer that could be remote controlled. John frowned as he walked back into the shed, pushing the fear that he felt seeing the dynamite away and pushing forward. In the back were black cases, about 16 inches by 21 inches. John noticed the cement bricks and the bags of cement. _What is going on here? _John thought as he tried to piece together what it all could be. He went forward to open one of the black boxes when he heard a click and then _beep… beep… beep… beep…_ Getting faster until he knew one approached. He didn't have a way out. In the house Sherlock turned as the loud explosion went off from the direction of the beck yard. Sherlock rushed out of the house, through the back door and as his eyes caught sight of the shed his only thought was, _Please, don't let John be trapped in there._

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_Please hit that review button down there and review the story. Tell me what you thought about it! I would love to hear from you. You can even now review anonymously! Thank you!_


	2. Chapter 2

_******PLEASE READ!******_

**A/N: This is where the story gets its "T" rating. MINOR swearing. I also believe it happens once, in the first line and then it is never to be seen again. Also, this story will not be a regular update... i will try to update as quickly as possible but sometimes it may go for a while w/o any updates and then others, it will have 3-4 chapters up at once. I will credit this to school as I am graduating soon! (Side note: YESSSS! Graduation!) So, please hang with me for a few. Thank you for reading this as well. A/N will start going back down as a foot note after this.**

**Peace, Love and Happiness to y'all,**

**Catori**

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"John!" Sherlock yelled in the direction of the house. "John! John! Damn it, John, answer me!" Sherlock was now yelling wherever he could. He then thought he heard something over the roar of the fire of the shed. Sherlock's eyes widened and he ran towards the shed, a sliver of hope in sight. The entire structure was fighting to hold up as Sherlock kicked the door down and began rushing inside. Different boards were lying on the ground, the front was almost completely destroyed and the back seemed to be damaged badly as well. Sherlock rushed to the back, calling out John's name behind the mask of his blue scarf.

"John?" Sherlock yelled as he shifted through some of the rubble that appeared to be more brick like. "John? Are you in here?" Sherlock then heard coughing from his right and Sherlock rushed to the noise. As he came closer he could make out John's profile through the thick and hazy smoke. "John!" Sherlock exclaimed upon finding John alive and behind what appeared to be the beginnings of a brick wall. John took Sherlock's hand as he got up and steadied himself with a hand on Sherlock's shoulder.

"What were you doing in here?" Sherlock questioned as he attempted to find a way out of the now collapsing shed.

"Footsteps in the mud lead here. I went in, saw the dynamite, didn't think that they would set it off now, but I got back here to take a look at the black cases and the timer went off. Only had five to ten seconds before the explosives went off."

"Black cases?" Sherlock said, turning to John. They both looked at the wall and saw that some of the cases were unharmed. Sherlock grabbed a few as well as John. With those in hand they quickly began to realize that the front of the building was not an option. John overestimated the amount of dynamite but whatever was in the other boxes must have been flammable, put there to help the fire along once the explosives were set. John looked over to the wall and saw how it was crumbling.

"What if we tried that wall?" John said, pointing over to the wall near the small beginning of the brick wall. Sherlock looked at John as if he were crazy. "The walls sturdiness is already compromised, if we help it along, we could have it collapse and we have a way out."

"Or we have our death sentence when the building collapses because one of it's legs have been demolished." Sherlock pointed out.

"Do you see any other way?" Sherlock looked at John and then nodded. He put down the cases next to him and picked up one of the cinder blocks. John did so as well. They threw the blocks at the thin walls. It took six blocks and the wall was crumbling. It was enough for Sherlock and John to get out. They each grabbed the cases and began shoving their way out of the wall when another explosion went off this time completely demolishing the shed and throwing Sherlock and John out of the wall and a good ten to fifteen feet away, in some grass. John landed on his right side while Sherlock landed face first into the soil and grass. They each lay there for a moment catching their breath when Sherlock took out his phone and began to text.

"Who are you texting?" John asked incredulously.

"Lestrade." Sherlock's tone enough to leave out the 'obviously'. John nodded and sighed as he went to get up. As he stood he took an inventory of how his body was functioning. He didn't have much smoke inhalation, he was in the building for no more that five to six minutes maybe, Sherlock even less. The probability of that slim. John watched as Sherlock got up, watching the way he moved and knew nothing was wrong, except that they would both be sore in the morning. Sherlock reached down for the box and picked it up, he went to open it when John stopped him.

"When I went to open one of those cases the bomb went off."

"They can't see us, whoever 'they' might be. We're out in a clearing with trees over head. Nothing can happen." Sherlock said certainly. John nodded and then sighed internally as Sherlock opened the case, watching for anything suspicious. When Sherlock opened the case there were different weapons in it. Different models of guns, obviously not registered, along with ammo in another case and machine guns and a few rounds in the other two. John and Sherlock looked at each other. This wasn't just a murder there was most likely selling of illegal arms and from the tags they were being brought in from other countries. This case had just gotten more interesting.

"What do you mean we don't have jurisdiction on the case any longer?" Sherlock practically yelled at a tired looking Lestrade.

"The case is now involving two to three different countries, including the United States. This case is no longer in our hands Sherlock. It's been given to the higher ups." Lestrade trying to explain again. John stood leaning on the door jam of the door. He sighed and worded what he was going to say very carefully.

"Sherlock, there is nothing we can do for now. It'd be best if we went, got something to eat, cleaned up and settled in for the night." Sherlock stared at John, his eyes narrowing, then he straightened up and just as expected glided out of the room without another word. Lestrade sighed and his shoulders relaxed from their tense position.

"Thank you for that John. I'm not sure how you do it-" Lestrade cut himself off when he looked up and saw John's face. Lestrade nodded slowly. "You both aren't going to leave this are you?"

"Greg, what did you expect?" John chuckled and walked out of the room to the cab that he knew would be waiting. Lestrade groaned and let his head fall to his desk. He wouldn't be surprised if one day he got fired because of those two.


End file.
